In the Shadow of the Man
I went by the cemetery in Kansas City the other day. I hadn't been there for quite awhile. The big tree near Dad's grave has been removed. It took me a minute to find it. It's been a long time since we laid his body down to rest there. Lots of summers and winters have warmed and chilled that spot.
Yet, the passing of the years leaves much unchanged, undiminished. I remain as always my father's son. I can still glimpse the gleam of his integrity in the expressions of those who knew him well. I can measure his character in the words of those who walked with him and worked with him. I can weigh the influence of his life in the lingering legacy he left behind for his family and the churches he served. My father's shadow still shelters and strengthens my life.
In another nineteen years I will likely be retired and most all of my father's friends and family will probably be gone. Few will remain on this side of death who knew him well, if at all. But one thing is certain. I will always be my father's son, and I will live then as now in the shadow of the man.